


The Kings and Queens of the North

by merrymegtargaryen



Series: The Kings and Queens of Winter [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/merrymegtargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>crossingwinter asked me to write a fic based off of my post: "my ideal ending for asoiaf is the four remaining stark kids to come together and become kings and queens of the north like the pevensies in narnia"</p>
<p>Hopefully will turn into a series, but I just have this little nugget for right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“But why are there four of them?”

“Because,” Tyrion Stokeworth explained to his younger sister with the air of one who was quite put upon, “Their bannermen all wanted one or the other on the throne, and they kept squabbling, so the Starks decided to unite their armies by ruling together.”

“Like Aegon and his sisters?” Elyse asked.

“Sort of, but they aren’t married to each other,” Tyrion said.

“Who will rule after them, then?” Elyse wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “The first of their children, I suppose. Or maybe they’ll each leave behind an heir.”

“Can King Brandon have children?”

“It’s High King Brandon, and I don’t think so,” said Tyrion. “He doesn’t have a wife, anyway, so even if he did have children, they’d be bastards.”

“What if he did take a wife?” Elyse pressed. “Would she be a queen? And if the Queens ever took husbands, would they be kings?”

“Don’t you ever stop asking questions?” her brother snapped, mostly to hide the fact that he didn’t know the answer.

“Tell me about them again,” she begged. “Please.”

Tyrion tried to act as if this was a great imposition. “There’s High King Brandon, the Wise,” he said. “He’s a warg, so they say. He could be that pigeon, for all we know,” he said, nodding to the bird strutting on the street before them.

“He is not,” said his sister, but she eyed the bird warily.

“He could be. He’s a cripple, which is why some of the lords bannermen didn’t want him to be king, even though he’s Robb Stark’s rightful heir. His direwolf is named Summer. Then there’s Queen Sansa the Gentle. She’s the most beautiful woman in Westeros, if the legends can be believed. She was married to Tyrion Lannister.”

“Your namesake!”

“The very same,” he agreed with a note of pride. “They had their marriage annulled, though, and men have been trying to win her hand ever since. I heard her heart belongs to a knight of her Queensguard, though.”

“Just like in the songs,” Elyse sighed. “Do you—”

“She also rules the Vale,” interrupted Tyrion, who didn’t like songs as much as his sister. “She doesn’t have a direwolf; King Joffrey had it killed when he planned to take her to wife. And then there’s Queen Arya the Brave. She trained with the Faceless Men of Braavos, and the legends say she has more skill with a blade than any man living in Westeros. She rules the Trident, though her uncle Edmure Tully rules as her regent. Her direwolf is named Nymeria, after the warrior-queen.

“Last is King Rickon the Wild. He was raised and trained by the savages in Skagos, and they made him their leader, so he rules them still. He’s a beast of a man, more wolf than human. His direwolf is named Shaggydog.”

“I want to see them,” said Elyse.

“You will see them, when they come for the wedding,” her brother told her. “Maybe we’ll even meet them. Father used to serve Queen Sansa, you know. Well, he served her husband, but that’s all one.”

“Will they bring their wolves?” she asked, trembling with excitement.

“They bring their wolves with them wherever they go,” Tyrion said, smug with his knowledge. “Careful they don’t eat you.”

Elyse’s eyes widened, but their father chose that moment to walk out of the smithy. “Father!” she shouted, running to him. “Father, do direwolves eat people?”

“What’ve you been telling her now?” Bronn demanded of his son.

“I didn’t tell her anything!”

“Did you really know Queen Sansa?” Elyse continued. “Tyrion says you did. Is she really the most beautiful woman in Westeros?”

“She’s beautiful, all right,” Bronn agreed, scooping her up and setting her on his shoulder. “But she’s not as beautiful as you.”

Elyse, pleased by the compliment, fell momentarily (and mercifully) silent.


	2. Chapter 2

“It’ll be good to see Queen Shireen again,” Queen Sansa said from where she was embroidering a doublet for Bran.

“Gendry will be glad to see her,” said Queen Arya. Gendry had only known his cousin for a short time, but they were excessively fond of each other.

“I can’t wait to see Lord Davos,” said King Rickon. “Last time he carved a direwolf for me, and he promised he’d bring me another one.”

“Lord Davos is a man of his word,” Sansa said, smiling. “Bran? You’re awful quiet.”

“I don’t want to marry her,” King Bran said.

“Well, who said anything about marrying her?” Arya asked irritably. “Lord Manderly only said it would be a benificial match, not that you had to do it.”

“It’s a sensible match,” Bran admitted. “And it would keep the peace between the North and the South. And I do like Shireen. But I would have to move to King’s Landing, or she would have to move to Winterfell, or we would constantly be moving back and forth and it would never work.”

“So don’t marry her,” Arya said.

“I’ll marry her,” Rickon piped up. “I like Queen Shireen, and Shaggydog likes her too. And I like Lord Davos.”

“You can’t marry her, you’re only twelve,” Arya pointed out.

“I’m a King!” Rickon said indignantly.

“A twelve-year-old king.”

Rickon lunged at her, but Arya was too fast for him; laughing, she ducked and dipped and ran out of the solar. Rickon followed with a shout, and the direwolves barked and gave chase.

Sansa and Bran sighed and reached for more lemon cakes.


End file.
